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1�0�1�0�1�0�1�0�0�1 2003-04-23, 4:00 p.m.

i am so out of tune


I'm swamped. It's raining outside, so I'm blue. But I'm also swamped with work. My hair is on its last legs before a much-needed haircut and color this evening. And I'm overwhelmed with work. So what do I do to cope with it all?

I waste time. Yep, that's what I do best.

I'm sitting here reading the home pages for various creative writing graduate programs. Currently, I'm looking at the Iowa Writers Workshop site (poorly designed, but hey, they're writers), and feeling all kinds of bitter.

I'm reading a debut collection of stories by a graduate of the IWW and like to get all snarky ... It's so formulaic. All graduates of this program sound the same. It's just like a brand of business school � they pound a philosophy into your head, and you sort of come out sounding and looking and acting all alike.

Yet. Yet they're doing something I could never probably do.

I'm not used to trying and failing. I usually achieve what I strive for, though not without tons of self-doubt and self-imposed obstacles. A writers' workshop, especially one that's 2,000 miles away, would be the impossible dream that I'm not really interested in dreaming.

But I still feel all bitter about it.

***

The past week or so has been a little on the surreal side. Weather's been crap. We've been way too busy to even think, let alone enjoy down-time and take it all in. I had a really nice dinner with theshivers last Wednesday night, which I've barely had time to reflect on until recently � it was great to meet her in person, even though, typically, I got her lost with my directions. I have friends who still haven't forgiven me for doing pretty much the same thing (my friend RB once ended up in a skanky neighborhood of Philly because I forgot to mention that city hall, of all things, would block her route to the restaurant where we were meeting, and that she'd have to be spontaneous and take a detour. I've never lived that one down.)

Anyway, based on our conversation, we talked a bit about writing programs, hers specifically, and I'm finding myself more and more encouraged to do it, though I have no idea how shivers juggles it all � I am definitely not as motivated as she.

The other new person I encountered in the past week was a new therapist. She is a peculiar little woman with cropped hair and a kind of tail thing, and she dresses all in the same color, head to toe, shoes, stockings, everything. And she specializes in hypnosis. I'm a little skeptical. I'm perhaps a lot skeptical, so I might look around at my options. But who knows ... it could be just the thing.

***

Last night, A. and I had our first very serious conversation about money. In the middle of the self-serve stock aisle of IKEA, with two chairs loaded on to our carts. A. suddenly launched into this emotional and sweet discussion of how much he wants to own property, and how he wants to work together to save and budget and be more financially responsible. And when I talked him into buying the $200 leather chair anyway, I felt guilty, because A., who does not show emotion and vulnerability freely, had opened up to me and then immediately closed up again. So of course, for the rest of the night, I kept a'tappin' for a little peek inside again. Which I'm sure can be a little annoying for the person on the other side of that door.



before � after